


Dancing

by Avanalae



Series: Dancing with Death [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Death is very handsy, Ice Skating, Implied Relationships, M/M, Universe Alteration, i think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-05-04 17:58:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14598576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avanalae/pseuds/Avanalae
Summary: A figure dances on the ice and Tom is entranced. Little does he know that the figure is watching back.





	Dancing

The Christmas feast was a quiet one this year. Many of the children had opted to go home for the holidays, even some of the muggleborns who lived in the warzone.

Tom couldn’t blame them, he supposed. He’d never understand but he couldn’t blame them.

But now Tom was waiting impatiently for curfew, his mind only on one thing.

The glint of moonlight off metal, the twist of a body, a glow of green…

Tom blinks and he’s sure only a moment has passed, but it’s already almost time for curfew.

He makes his way out of his empty room and carefully checks to make sure the common room is empty before leaving through the passage. He makes his way quietly to the entrance hall, though he’s sure he could smooth-tongue his way out of any situation. He doesn’t want to deal with it. Not tonight.

He leaves the warmth of Hogwarts into the brisk December air. Absently he casts a warming charm on his cloak, looking towards his destination.

His heart leaps at a glint of light.

Tom doesn’t run. He’s far to dignified for that. He does, however, walk briskly towards the lake.

As he draws closer, he can see it. The graceful figure that comes in the night to dance on the ice.

They’re already moving and Tom hurries down to sit at the edge of the frozen lake.

Entranced, Tom watches the androgynous figure pull of feats he never knew a body could accomplish with an ease born of experience.

Spins that turn into graceful slides along the ice, forming incomprehensible shapes with the blades of his skates. Leaps and spins in the air that must take tremendous strength to do and that surely would break the ankles of a lesser being upon landing.

It’s difficult to see the figure, being in the center of the lake, but this time Tom can make out the figure is wearing tight dark pants and a loose silver tunic-like shirt that glimmers in the moonlight. Dark hair floats around their shoulders and luminescent green eyes look to the starry sky.

Tom never sees those eyes land on him, and some part of him – some greedy, greedy part – wishes they would turn his way.

He never goes out onto the ice, though, fearing to find out that they are a mere apparition or a piece of his imagination. He never wants to break this illusion of intimacy between them. He can dream that this spirit or person, whatever it is, is dancing and showing off for him.

Some primal part of him is unsatisfied, but he always pushes it aside.

The figure pulls off another spectacular leap and Tom is once again drawn into the performance. With every move Tom becomes more and more enraptured, just like the time before and the time before that.

He doesn’t know how long it lasts, but at some point the figure leaps and does four spins in the air before landing on a single foot. They spin a bit longer before coming to a stop, posing gracefully and once again looking up to the sky.

Tom has the urge to clap, but the silence is all-encompassing and he is too entranced.

Suddenly, like each and every time before, the figure disappears in a wisp of smoke.

Tom _aches_.

Oh, how he _aches_.

But he breathes out his heartache and it comes out as a wisp of condensed air.

The walk back to Hogwarts is a cold one.

* * *

Green eyes watch the lonely boy walk to the castle from behind a tree on the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

He’s silent, letting the lonely sounds of the forest speak for him.

But it’s not to last.

“Master.”

Green eyes close a moment before opening again. He says nothing.

“Oh, Master,” pale hands come around to press against his stomach and chest and pull him closer to a tall, cold body. “ _Harry_ ,” is whispered in his ears, lips he knows to be thin and almost a shade of icy blue tickle his left ear.

Harry closes his eyes again, losing sight of Tom Riddle.

“Oh, dearest Master,” the being moves its lips to his cheek and smiles against warm flesh. “You’re always so _interesting_. Watching the boy become the man you once killed. _Dancing_ for him.”

One hand pulls down the neck of the tunic and exposes a mark above Harry’s heart.

The mark of the Hallows.

A thumb caresses the mark, “I gave you this ability, to walk through time and dimensions. And what do you do?”

Harry opens his eyes and sees Tom disappear into Hogwarts.

“You watch this boy.” His skin prickles with each stroke of the thumb over the mark. “You watch him, and you _yearn_ , don’t you?”

The hand comes up and grips his chin, pulling his head to the side to meet the endless black of the being’s eyes.

Harry remains unshaken and the being smiles wider.

“Oh, how well I chose when I chose you, dear Harry.” The being leans in until their noses are almost touching, “Very, very well.”

Finally Harry opens his mouth and asks, for what seems to be the thousandth time, “Why?”

It means so many things. It’s a mash of so many questions into one. And Harry knows that the being knows exactly what he is asking.

But Death smiles for the thousandth time and says, “You already know the answer.”

Harry fears that he does.

 

 


End file.
